BookBrowse Reviews The Blood Countess by Shelley Puhak

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In The Blood Countess, Puhak questions the reliability of the evidence used against Elizabeth Bathory by placing it within its historical and political context, and exploring the power struggles that may have led to her downfall.

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Shelley Puhak is an award-winning author, historian, and poet, best known for her 2022 book The Dark Queens: The Bloody Rivalry That Forged the Medieval World and her poetry collection Guinevere in Baltimore, which won the Anthony Hecht Prize. In her latest book, The Blood Countess: Murder, Betrayal, and the Making of a Monster, Puhak tries to separate the true story of Elizabeth Bathory, the woman, from the myth of Elizabeth Bathory, the monster.

Elizabeth Bathory (1560–1614) was a Hungarian countess from one of the wealthiest and most powerful families of her time. Today she's remembered as one of history's most infamous figures, accused of torturing and murdering more than 600 young women and, according to some versions of the myth, bathing in their blood to preserve her youth and beauty. In 1610, when she was 50, a series of investigations was launched against her. However, despite repeatedly asking for one, she never got a fair, formal trial. Nor was she imprisoned. Instead, she was forced to remain locked in her castle until her death in 1614. Plenty of inconsistencies, gaps, and unanswered questions surround the evidence against her, and The Blood Countess takes a closer look at it as well as why some people might have wanted Bathory out of the way.

Puhak draws on archival sources, such as letters and testimonies, and places the evidence within the broader context of Hungarian history and politics. One example is the word "carnifex," appearing in letters exchanged between two priests and describing Bathory. Many historians who have read the term as clear evidence against her have taken it in its more literal sense of "murderer," "torturer," or "executioner." Puhak argues, however, that as it was used by priests during Lent, it was most likely meant as a moral rebuke, metaphorically referring to her not fasting and therefore being "a person of low morals" rather than a literal murderer.

Puhak also questions the validity of the testimonies, most of which were produced by rumors or violent interrogations. The famous "more than 600 victims" claim, for example, came from a servant who said she heard a story about a man who found a document listing victims. Most interestingly, Puhak examines the so-called "tortures" inflicted by Bathory and her confidant Anna Darvulia (see Beyond the Book). She argues that some of the violent acts described may actually have been legitimate medical treatments employed by female healers. Since these were often bloody and painful, they were easy to misinterpret, especially in times when female practitioners weren't welcomed in the medical profession.

From Puhak's approach, it is clear that she refuses to see Bathory as the monster her contemporaries made her out to be and that many still believe she was. Instead, she paints a picture of a kind, highly educated, intelligent, and principled woman who cared for her servants and even attempted to prosecute corrupt officials. In short, a powerful woman who became a threat. Puhak identifies the conflicts between Catholics and Calvinists as a key factor in Bathory's fate. Not only was she a powerful and rich Calvinist, but her mother and aunt were also actively involved in the Calvinist movement. This made her a clear threat to the Catholic Church, and it is therefore not hard to imagine that authorities would have tried to take her out of the picture by any means possible, including falsely accusing her of murder. Puhak also mentions tensions with the Habsburgs, both political and financial (they owed money to her household), as additional motives.

Due to the book's approach, a significant portion focuses on the sociopolitical landscape of Hungary at the time. It explores this history in depth, covering events such as the religious conflicts of the Reformation era, the Bocskai rebellion, and the Ottoman raids. It also offers a detailed account of Bathory's life and ancestry.

This focus makes The Blood Countess not your typical true crime book. It will appeal more to readers interested in history and biographies than to those seeking a fast-paced, sensational story. The level of detail might be challenging for some. Having said that, Puhak's prose is clear, straightforward, and easy to follow, setting the book apart from heavy, academic history reads. This combination of relevant history and accessible writing is the book's greatest strength, and the careful reconstruction of sociopolitical context stands out. Puhak lays out for us the world from which the accusations against Bathory emerged, offering a deeper understanding of how power, politics, and storytelling can transform a person into a legend.

This review first ran in the April 22, 2026 issue of BookBrowse Recommends.